All's Well That Ends Well?
by meldahlie
Summary: 1st November 1981. What did the Auror Department think?


All's Well That Ends Well?

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1st November, 1981. What did the Auror Department think?

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"To Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived!"

All over Britain, the wizarding world gathered itself, in clusters on street corners, in crowds outside magical pubs, in hastily arranged parties – all to toast the survival of the Boy Who Lived, and the downfall of the darkest wizard of the century.

Two places did not celebrate. No. 4, Privet Drive remained as solemn as the tabby cat sitting outside it. Quieter yet was the Ministry of Magic Auror Department.

Minister Bagnold had announced the news to every ministry employee who could squeeze into the Ministry Atrium, and to all those who couldn't, via a _sonorous_ charm. And while the Department of Magical Games and Sports cried and hugged the Department of Mysteries, the Aurors filed back to their own floor and cubicles.

The darkest wizard of the century was gone. They, the Aurors, had fallen by the dozen to try and stop him – and now he was defeated or dead, at the hand of a one-year-old boy.

There was the other thing, too; that all the toasts and parties seemed to have missed. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had lost his parents. There were two more names on the unwritten list of people the Aurors had failed to save.

Quiet, sombre, the Aurors moved through their Department; spoke to their colleagues who had survived; stared into the not yet reallocated cubicles of those who had not; or simply sat in their own.

"It's over, then."

Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had been among the simply sitting, looked round in surprise at the sudden comment. His hand made its automatic jerk to his wand all Aurors developed in less than no time in these hex-first-and-get-buried-afterwards days – but it was only Frank Longbottom in the doorway. Kingsley let go of his wand, and made a small, rather sheepish grin at the other Auror. No point in trying to pretend he hadn't, or hoping that such an experienced Auror as Longbottom might have missed the movement.

"You're the first smile I've seen down here," Frank observed, settling his shoulders against Kingsley's cubicle wall with the air of a man who had stopped for a visit.

"Er – oh." Kingsley hunted for more words, but they eluded him like purposeful Death Eaters. He wasn't the newest of the Aurors, but he was certainly much more junior than the likes of Frank Longbottom usually chatted to. And yet, Frank seemed to be here. Well, today was supposed to be different, wasn't it?

"I nearly hexed your head off," he joked with an attempt at cheery brightness.

"No great loss," said Frank with matching cheeriness. "As Alice was saying earlier, our Neville would have apparently done a better job with You-know-who than we have."

"Perhaps the Ministry needs to replenish the Auror Department with toddlers," Kingsley suggested.

Frank chuckled, a real chuckle not a cheery one. "I don't think that's in Barty's New Plan, but it's an idea. Youth Squad fights Death Eaters: no-one born before 1975 eligible. No-" He shook his head. "That wouldn't do. It would kill my mother to be told she was too old to cosh a Death Eater or two over the head with her handbag."

Kingsley smiled at the image. "What's Barty making New Plans about?"

Frank's smile faded. "For dealing with the rest of them."

"The rest of them?"

Frank nodded. "The rest of them. The hordes of violent, murderous, angry, shocked Death Eaters that are still out there – the ones all the happy parties are over-looking."

"All of them with a vendetta against poor little Harry Potter," said Kingsley thoughtfully.

"Dumbledore's seen to that bit," said Frank confidently. "But as for the rest of them-" His smile twisted into a rather bitter grimace. "Barty's proposing that anyone from a nice respectable family who's prepared to say they were acting under _Imperious_ can go free for a promise of good behaviour – and a generous donation to Millicent Bagnold's favourite charities. He's putting the idea to her at the moment."

Kingsley stared at him in horror. "That's not worth Moody's leg! Let alone the likes of Edgar Bones and his entire family!"

Frank sighed. "Alastor and Amelia have gone to say so," he said drily. "But as Amelia wants slow and painstakingly researched justice and Alastor wants swift and extensive imprisonment, I think Barty's peaceful politicking will win the day."

"What do you want?" Kingsley asked, considering these options.

Frank Longbottom looked down. "That's why I think Barty will carry the matter," he said in a shame-faced voice. "Peace. That's what anybody with a family wants. Amelia and Moody have only got themselves. They – don't know what it's like to want to wake up not fearing that your nearest and dearest will end the day facing a Death Eater's wand. It's a very powerful temptation."

"Then I think you're very brave," said Kingsley bluntly.

"What? How?" Frank looked up from the floor, surprised.

"For standing here, talking to me," said Kingsley, holding out his hand. "When your heart would rather be safely at home with Alice and Neville, or down in Bagnold's office backing Barty for peace at any price."

Frank stared for a moment, and then took his hand and shook it. "Thank you, Shacklebolt. I knew James and Lily Potter," he added. "Quite well. They will have died for their son without thinking it was in vain." He was silent again, and then smiled somewhat cheerily, and clapped Kingsley on the shoulder. "I guess what remains for the rest of us is to make sure it was not in vain. _"_ He shrugged. "All's Well That Ends Well, maybe."

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 _A/N: With many thanks to the Harry Potter essayist, whose name I cannot recall, who came up with the idea of Barty Crouch's "Deal" and how the Malfoys, Lestranges, etc talked their way out of Azkaban._

 _A_ _lso,_ _if you_ _want_ _more Longbottom tragedy, "Just when everyone thought they were safe" makes a sequel to this cheery little piece!_


End file.
